Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Bangladesh and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Drive Like Jehu to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sight & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
T. Rex,
The Vogues,
Marvin Gaye,
Zero Boys,
Dennis Brown,
The Mojo Men,
One Last Wish,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Reuben Wilson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
kango's stein massive,
Funkadelic,
Arab on Radar,
Bobby Sherman,
The Selecter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Spandau Ballet,
Unrelated Segments,
Oneida,
Hoover,
Don Cherry,
the Sonics,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Half Japanese,
Matthew Halsall,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ultimate Spinach,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Groovy Waters,
The Invisible,
Wally Richardson,
Y Pants,
The Skatalites,
Ossler,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
A Certain Ratio,
Quando Quango,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scratch Acid,
Throbbing Gristle,
Andrew Hill,
Gabor Szabo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Adolescents,
Eden Ahbez,
Franke,
Eli Mardock,
Jeff Mills,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mad Mike,
Ohio Players,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yaz,
The Happenings,
Public Enemy,
Lower 48,
John Holt,
The Misunderstood,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.